DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke, and is the property of Kripke Enterprises Scrap Metal and Entertainment (Eric Kripke and Robert Singer, executive producers), Wonderland Sound and Vision, Warner Brothers, and the CW Network. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This comes after the first three Supernatural stories I have written, which appear elsewhere in this archive. There is more to come...

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.

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"I wish I were an apple
Hanging in a tree,
And every time my Cindy passed,
She'd take a bite of me..."

Great. I'm supposed to be coming up with a plan here, and I've got some crappy old Elvis song stuck in my head. Must be something Dad used to play on the radio. I think the trees are starting to get to me. Better that than the Vanir spirit, I guess.

I've even got a Cindy here for inspiration--well, an Emily, anyway. She's cute, but not a day over seventeen. Yeah, that's why I didn't touch her while we were locked in that root cellar together.

Okay, after I'd made sure we couldn't get out, and she started to cry, I did hold her for a little while until she calmed down. Heck, it made me feel a little better, too.

But I didn't try anything funny. I was a good boy scout. Wait. Boy scouts have troops, and I'm all by myself here.

Dammit, Sam. Why did you take me up on my threat to leave you behind? I am obviously out of ideas here. Sure, I can pretend that I don't need you, but it's all an act.

I bet you're trying to call me right now, on my phone that's back in town somewhere. I'm glad I did talk to you earlier, though. It was good to hear your voice, and tell you about my low-tech attempts at research into this thing. Got a little better handle on THAT now, anyway. Will I ever hear your voice again?

An apple hanging on a tree. That would be me. Unfortunately, Emily is also tied to a tree--over there, so I can see her. It's probably a good thing I didn't do anything with her down in that cellar, since that thing's M.O. seems to require couples. With my luck, we're good bait just because we've merely been introduced.

What would you do if you were here? Would it be you tied to this fucking tree, waiting for a fugly demon to take you out? Would I get here in time to rescue you? What if I couldn't save you this time? I'm gonna stop thinking about that right now.

If I were an apple, the Vanir spirit would peel off my shiny skin and add another layer to himself. I'm not sure what kind of luck that would bring to the community, but it might count for something.

Then maybe Emily would eat my juicy flesh to keep herself alive just a little longer, and I wouldn't begrudge her a bite. I'm here to help people, so if that's all the help I could provide, she's welcome to it.

Afterwards, all that would be left would be my core. Sammy, I don't think the core of me is just about me anymore. You're in there, part of my heart, half of what makes me who I am. For that matter, who's to say you're not more than half? We're stronger together, wrapped up in each other like twisted tree trunks, unable to be separated.

Aw, fuck me, Sam. Listen to what a girl I become when you're not around! Get over your damned self, find Dad or whatever, and get your ass back here. I need you.

In the meantime, I still have to come up with a plan. When I get out of this, I'll come find you, honest. Damn, I'm hungry. Okay, maybe I'll find something to eat first. What sounds good? Definitely not apple pie, that's for damned sure...